Summer can be the bossy season,
Doesn't like you to relax.
For this, of course, there's worthy reason,
So you employ it to the max.

'Get up early out of bed,
Return as late you can.
All winter you may rest your head,
But summer is élan.'

There's guilt to sitting quiet indoors,
When you could be bathed in sun.
To be invigorated the day implores,
For it's the time most life gets done.

Whether garden, beach, walk in the hills,
It doesn't matter much.
Just be out there so each span it fills,
With this and that and such.

But I know I'll all too soon regret,
If of it failed to make the most.
As of dwindling warmth and light I fret,
Mourne their fast retreating host.

So I'll do the sergeant's bidding.
On this parade ground of the year.
Of my reluctance, I'll be ridding,
To obey the now, the here.